He’s so earnest, so sweet, and my heart thumps.
I had no idea I needed that invitation. That out. Of course, I can give it to myself. I can stop at any moment. But his willingness to spend the evening clothed or unclothed jumpstarts me again. I reach for a condom from the nightstand drawer, but he’s faster to the draw. Reaching for his shorts on the floor, then grabbing one from his wallet.
I straddle Milo. “I want to ride you. There’s no mostly anymore.”
“Good,” he says with a grin, then parks his hands behind his head, his smirk crooked and sexy. “Then put that on me.”
I grip his shaft, sliding my hand up and down his hot, velvet length, recording every sharp inhale of breath he takes. Then I open the condom, roll it down, and climb over him.
He grips my hips, his eyes locked with mine. Those dark blues flare with desire, but tenderness too.
I shudder everywhere, one hundred percent back in the sex zone. Here, I know what I want. His desire. His words. “Tell me what you want,” I demand. “Say it.”
He rumbles. “Get on my dick, sunshine, and take me for that ride.”
My body heats like a supernova as I rub the head of his cock across my wetness. Then, I guide him into me.
“Ohhh,” I whisper as I take him in an inch, maybe more.
“Yessss,” he mutters, his eyes slamming shut.
That. That unfettered reaction spurs me, and I sink down, wincing as I go.
He opens his eyes. “You okay?”
“I am,” I say. It’s true enough. I’m full of sharp edges and rough corners as my body stretches in new ways. The fullness is strange and new, and almost too much.
Until . . . his hands slide along my stomach, and he cups my breasts then sits up. His face is inches from mine. His eyes spark with passion and something else.
Longing, maybe? Unexpected emotion? I hope so.
I don’t think this is just sex for him. I don’t know what it is, but I’m almost sure it’s more than sex for both of us.
That knowledge thrills and scares me.
But mostly, it excites me.
I lean in and kiss him. Then I start to move, and as I go, all the edges burn off. All the corners melt.
I’m warm, and everything is wonderful as I fuck Milo, and he fucks me, and we move together.
But there’s one little thing that would make this moment even more wonderful.
21
An Alligator Pit
Milo
* * *
This is the best view in the history of the world—Veronica riding my cock, her tits bouncing, her neck flushed.
I dig my fingers harder into her hips. My jaw is tight, and I fight off the onslaught of pleasure.
But it’s hard, it’s so damn hard when she pushes me down on the mattress, parks her hand on my chest, and says, “I want to use a toy too. Do you—”
“Do it. Fucking do it,” I say before she can even finish asking do I mind, do I care, would my fragile male ego be hurt if she wanted a little help from a friend.
Fuck. No.
“Can I get one for you? Where are they?” I ask, so damn eager to help send her over the edge.
“Nightstand drawer,” she says on a harsh pant.
I reach over, yank it open, and blink at the overflowing stash of vibes of all sizes. “It’s a battery-operated bonanza,” I say.
“Damn right it is.” She stretches, grabbing one. A tiny black thing. With the finesse of an expert, she punches a few buttons, then slides it between her legs, and strokes her clit as she rides my dick home.
I stand corrected.
This is the best sight ever. Veronica, using my dick as a toy right along with her magic speeding bullet as she trembles all over. Her lips part, and her throaty moans light a match inside me. My vision blurs, and then I’m coming hard with her. I can barely catch my breath it’s so good. She’s moaning for days too, as she falls onto my chest, and we breathe out hard together, the blissful collapse after the finish line.
When I get my bearings, I thread my fingers into her hair and bring her close for a kiss.
She smiles against me, sighing blissfully.
Then, I notice a faint buzzing, and I glance down at the purple duvet. The black bullet is bouncing happily on the cover, still going, so devoted to the task.
As I watch it with a dopey, post-sex smile, the most surprising thought lands in my brain.
I want to see that image again and again, here on her bed, in her home.
But, as I wrap my arms around her, maybe that’s not so surprising. Scary, but not surprising.
Sometimes, you just want to curl up on the couch after sex, skim little kisses along your lover’s neck, and whisper sweet nothings.